The 41st Hunger Game
by Spitfire0
Summary: This is a new take on an old theme. I'm being vague for reasons of suspense.
1. The Reaping

Intro

Chris Martindale had just started forward when he was slammed to the ground. Before he could react another tribute was on him, hands around his throat. Chris couldn't move or breathe as the tribute started also slamming his head into the ground. Chris's vision flickered and dimmed.

Chapter 1

He was almost free. Chris had gone through 6 years of standing with the teenage boys praying his name wouldn't be called and, as of yet, it hadn't. This was his last year. Next year he'd be watching from the crowd as the two tributes were called, nothing to worry about as far as the Hunger Games were concerned. Now, two names would be drawn and he could celebrate with his parents that he'd never step into that arena and face the kill or be killed situation. Chris just didn't know if he could take a life.

_Correction, _Chris thought to himself, _I don't know if I could take a_ human _life._

The Head Peacekeeper of District 12 didn't mind them hunting on the other side of the fence. It was technically poaching, but he sanctioned it as long as he got the pelts of anything they killed. Two were allowed out a day, only using the weapons he hid just inside the woods. Chris had found he was very good with the bow, but he had once he used a knife to kill a wild dog that had attacked him.

The District's escort stands up as the mayor finishes his lecture on the history of Panem. He walks to the huge glass ball, reaches in and digs around for a moment, then pulls a name out. "The girl tribute from District 12 for the 41st Hunger Game is," he pauses dramatically, "Jackie Kliemann!" Jackie shaking from brown hair, blue eyes to her feet walks forward looking defeated. Like Chris, she was standing among the teenagers for the last time.

_Maybe District 12 will finally have a winner._ Chris thought. _She's got athleticism, intelligence, and can fight with anything available._ She was skinny and a fast sprinter, won every argument she ever got into, and when Chris had gone hunting with her she had killed with her bow, knife, and a sharp rock that just happened to be lying in front of her. From her comments though, she would love to make her own blowgun. Although the Head Peacekeeper sanctioned hunting Chris doubted he would stay that way if someone started making their own weapons.

Even still, though, the six careers probably had that and more. One of them won almost every year. Chris couldn't remember once that they hadn't, but he knew it had happened. And District 12 had little luck. Last year their tributes hadn't even lasted five minutes. They had no former winners, so no mentor. Their escort was supposed to be a good mentor, but his record wasn't good. Zero winners in how many years? The longest survivor lasted a week and only because he somehow formed an alliance with the careers, then was betrayed by them becoming the 16th killed and so just missing being the first top 8 finisher in District 12 history.

Now it was the boy's turn. The escort reached into the boy's glass ball and like last time dug around for a minute. "The boy tribute is, Chris Martindale!"


	2. Shock

Chris stood frozen with shock. May the odds be ever in your favor? This was his last year! He stood frozen so long two peacekeepers grabbed his arms and started to pull him up to the stage. "I'm going, I'm going." he said, yanking his arms free.

Chris barely heard the rest of the reaping and had to have the peacekeepers grab his arms to get him into the Justice Building. He sat in the couch in the room assigned to him, still numb with shock. A few seconds later his family is there, mother, father and older brother. He barely looked up until his father said, "Look at me Chris." He did so. "I know this is unexpected but I think you can win this."

"How?"

"You have all the traits the careers' have, you're fast, strong, and you do what it takes."

"They've been training and are well fed. I can't say either."

"Chris, it's the Hunger Games, not the Well Fed Games." When he remained mute his father grabbed his arms and said, "Listen, you give up and you'll be dead quickly. Give us a victory! You and Jackie are the best tributes we've ever had!"

"There can only be one victor. Not two."

"Keep that attitude there will be another career victory. All of Panem wants someone else to win. The longer you live, the more the other districts will want you to win and will probably give you gifts." Chris privately doubted that but don't say so. At the moment the door opened and they allowed each family member to hug him before ushering them out.

All his friends visited him, all of them saying words of encouragement, they know better than to make him feel worse by saying how sorry they are he came so close, though a few who were also in there last year showed it in their eyes. The party they were planning would be cruel now that he wouldn't be there.

Despite all the uplifting words, Chris still felt like he was counting down to his own death. But his father's words stayed with him, and he realized he was right, this year he and Jackie were the best chance District 12 had ever had, but the odds are still not in their favor. All too soon, they were on the train, Chris looked behind them as long as he could, worried it will be last time he saw home. "Chris, is it all right if I come in?"

He turned around to see Jackie at his door. "Only if you're not planning to kill me."

She smiled, "You know that's not allowed. But I can't promise anything once were in the arena."

"This is already getting awkward."

"Sorry. But I'm not planning on killing you if that's what you want to hear."

"I know that's not why you're here."

"No. Regardless of who I'm planning on killing or not, my first priority is not getting killed."

"Let me guess, I'm supposed to become your friend and then I won't want to kill you when we meet in the arena?"

She laughed, "We both know that won't work. Well, I might be able to befriend you, but what good would that do? I hunted with you. That wild dog should have killed you, but you showed your survival instinct when you killed it. The look on your face when you stood up scared me. No I have a better plan to stay alive."

"Already? Were you planning to get picked?"

"Of course not, but all those times at home, trying to ignore my stomach growling, I found thinking of what I would do if I were in the arena was the best way of distracting me."

"I wish I'd thought of that. All I could think of was food."

"My God, you're supposed to be smart, that only makes it worse."

"So what did you think up?"

"We both know who's supposed to win, right?"

"The Careers."

"Yes. Six in all assuming they survive the whatchamacallit."

"Cornucopia."

"Yeah that. The odds are in their favor. My plan is to even the odds."

"How."

"Even a numerically superior foe can lose to a better strategy. Just look at the dark days. Thirteen on one, yet Capitol won."

"Their strategy seems good to. Stick together, invincible, then kill each other."

"But it doesn't always work. Listen, I got a chance to speak to the mayor once. He remembers every game. Only one other district doesn't have a winner, District 11. They're going to feel how I feel, and probably how you feel."

""Dead meat?"

"Exactly. What if we form our own alliance?"

_Sorry this took so long. I'm a slow writer and time is in short supply. Spitfire0_


	3. Tactics

"Form an alliance with District 11? Are you crazy?"

"No, but who else would form an alliance with us?"

"We're trying to get supporters. Our alliance would be the biggest underdogs in the game. Who would sponsor us?"

"There is strength in numbers. We have a better chance this way then alone." Chris fell silent, she was right. "Just think about it, we have some time. Just don't take too long, District 11 may take some convincing." Jackie smiled at him then left. Soon after he was called to dinner. Not much was said, mainly because he and Jackie could barely stop eating. Such a scarcity of food in District 12 and all of a sudden they had huge amounts set before them.

"Easy there you two." Their escort said. "Keep eating like that and you'll throw it all back up." He smiles kindly. "I have to say I feel good about this year. You two were in your last year weren't you?" They both nodded, still stuffing themselves. "Two eighteen year olds, matching the careers age, you look a little smaller, but that makes you faster. You can't match them in strength, but that's not usually a deciding factor. I don't know how smart you two are, but I imagine that you're at least as intelligent as the careers."

"Why are we just worrying about the careers?" Chris asked. "Even if they die at the Cornucopia, there are more enemies."

"I'm not just worrying about them, but don't kid yourself. Next to them, the others shouldn't be much of a problem. If you can down the careers, save being badly injured you can match everyone else. My first piece of advice, though, is don't target them. If you want to hunt tributes, search for loners. The careers will have you outnumbered. Even if you form an alliance. I don't know what the arena will look like, but most are heavily wooded. If that's the case, I'd take to the woods. It will be like home, I know you don't go in the woods, but it's more familiar to you than anywhere else." Chris and Jackie shared a grin about how each of them had been in the woods a lot. "For the moment that's about all the advice I can give you. Any questions?"

"Do you really think we can win this?" Chris immediately asked.

He sighed heavily. "I wish I could answer otherwise, but your district isn't known for winning. I said I thought you could win last year and look how that went. All I can say is do your very best and maybe you'll come out with an upset." After that they went to watch the reaping's. Strangely, save the Careers, Chris and Jackie, there were no eighteen year old tributes. District 11 was the one Chris was interested in, and dismayed by. The two tributes looked like they were twelve or thirteen at the most. Chris looked at Jackie for her reaction, her brow was furrowed, but it didn't look like she was disappointed or dismayed. She saw him looking and said, "It could still work."

"I'm sorry?" their escort asked.

"I had a talk with Chris before dinner. I think our best shot at survival is forming an alliance."

"I would advise against it. I suggested that one tribute attempt an alliance with the Careers and look how that worked."

"But the key is joining with allies we can kill, if necessary. District 11 would be thrilled to have someone to keep them alive only a little while longer. When the time comes to break the alliance, they'll have a hard time trying to kill us."

He thought for a moment. "Well, it's not ideal, but it might work. Get to sleep you two. Tomorrow is a big day."

* * *

The next day they got there first look at Capitol. "Wow." Chris said, awed. They had both seen pictures of it on screen, but it wasn't the same as seeing it in person. Full of tall graceful towers, delicate and intricate domes, and wide paved roads covered with cars. It was stunning. Then they saw the people lined up along the side of the rails, waiting for them. Chris was momentarily stunned by the dyed faces and bizarre hairdos.

"Wave." Jackie says without moving her lips, keeping a charming smile on her face. Chris snapped out of his stun and smiled also, waving at the cheering crowd. It felt weird to act like he liked anyone who only liked him because they couldn't wait to see his blood splatter the cameras.

Finally, the train came to a halt and they were ushered into the remake center. It was quite an interesting place inside, especially the room where his prep team started to work on him. Everywhere Chris looked was his reflection or a light that was painful to look at.

After what seemed like half a day, they had given him such a close shave, it felt like he was missing the outer layer of his face and removed the hair from every bit of exposed skin save the top of his head. He looked at himself and found he actually looked somewhat dashing. The door opened and his designer came in. "Hello Chris. My name is Tian."

"Hello."

"My job is simple. I want to make you catch the crowd's attention." Chris had to bite his tongue to not say how well that usually worked. Normally they went for the skimpy outfit approach, but all that usually did was show how emancipated they were and they immediately ended up in the dead meat category. Chris's thoughts must have showed because Tian smiled and said. "Don't worry, I'm not going to make my predecessor's mistakes. I have an interest in fashions of old, and I found one that seems to tie in with coal pretty well. What are coals main features?"

Chris was stunned briefly, then said, "It's black, dusty, dirty, and burns."

"Correct. Now making you dusty and dirty isn't going to endear you to the crowd and burning you alive would get me arrested, so my counterpart and I decided to play off the last one."

"Black? I don't understand."

"In the Twenty-first Century there was a fashion some people wore. It mainly involved black. You're going to look something like them. They were known as Goths."

_Once again I'm sorry this took so long. Please be patient I have very little free time. Spitfire0_


End file.
